


What Have the Romans Never Done for Us

by Sineala



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Amnesia, Anachronistic, Biggus Dickus, Crack, Deliberate Badfic, Llamas, M/M, Pizza, Potatoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/pseuds/Sineala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an ordinary day on an Ancient Roman farm: tomatoes, potatoes, corn, a llama, and massive memory loss. Wait, what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have the Romans Never Done for Us

**Author's Note:**

> I like llamas.

As he walked toward to the farm, Marcus saw Esca standing by the gate with a horse on a lead; he grinned and lifted a hand in greeting.

As he came closer, he stopped and stared. It wasn't a horse. It was sort of a horse and sort of a sheep. A horse-sized sheep, with a long thin neck. 

"Esca?" Marcus said, uncertainly. "What did you buy for us at the market?"

Esca mouthed his own name a few times as if he'd never heard it before. Had Esca been hit in the head? Had _Marcus_ been hit in the head?

"I bought many wonderful things!" Esca said brightly. "I will show you!"

The sheep-horse put its ears back and spat on Marcus.

"This is a llama! Biggus Dickus said it gave excellent wool."

Marcus crossed his arms. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. "There is no one in Calleva named Biggus Dickus."

"Pfft." Esca waved his free hand. "You're just jealous." Then he glanced down at Marcus' braccae. "Or maybe you're not. Here, let me show you what else I bought."

Turning, he led the llama toward the nearest pasture and shoved it in the direction of the bewildered sheep.

"You know who you are, right?" Marcus said, beginning to feel a little panicked. "You know who I am, right? I'm Marcus!"

The smile Esca gave him somehow managed to be both confused and positively filthy. "Oh, good, I've always liked Romans."

"No," Marcus said, plaintively, "you haven't. You-- oh, never mind."

He was going to go with it. He was just going to go along with it. Esca would be better eventually. Or Marcus would wake up. Whichever.

He followed Esca inside, and watched, bewildered, as Esca started to pull unidentifiable vegetables from a bag and chop them up.

"You're clearly my best friend," said Esca, still cheerful, reaching for some squishy red thing that Marcus hoped to all the gods wasn't poisonous.

"Definitely," Marcus said, with all the confidence he didn't feel.

"Also we're fucking."

"You remember--?"

Esca dropped the squishy red thing into a pot, then turned and leered at him. "There's only one bed."

"Oh." Marcus stared at the... stew? "So, uh, what are we eating for dinner?"

Esca gestured with the knife at the bag of strange vegetables. "The potatoes are for tomorrow, I figured, but tonight, just for you, it's pizza. You're Italian, right? That is definitely what they eat in Italy. Pizza. Biggus Dickus said so."

"I. Um. Certainly," Marcus said. He was really, really hoping he would wake up soon.

"There's also corn, for a side. I bought it especially for you."

The harvest had been good this year for the farmers; they'd bought more than enough from them. "Esca, we already have corn."

"Yes," Esca said, sounding oddly triumphant, "but this corn is _yellow_. And therefore better. Now come help me make the pizza dough."

* * *

Dinner wasn't actually that bad. The corn-that-wasn't-corn was sweet and reasonably pleasant. Esca had made a flat bread that he covered with a sauce made from the red things -- tomatoes, he said -- and he had complained bitterly about there not being the right kind of cheese, but he had put some cheese on it anyway, baked it, and cut it into slices.

As Marcus lifted a piece to his mouth, he was aware of Esca's hopeful, eager gaze. The sauce was sweet, which was good, and the whole thing was fairly tasty, even though he didn't usually like cheese. 

"Is the pizza just like what you ate in Rome?"

Marcus swallowed and, with some effort, put a smile on his face. "I have never had its equal," he said, which was at least true.

"Oh, good," Esca said, happily, and then he ate half the pizza without stopping.

* * *

After dinner they washed out the pots, folded up the remaining pizza in a napkin, and fed and rounded up the animals for the night. The llama seemed to have decided that its duty was to guard the sheep, and it spat on Marcus again when he came near to it. It was bedtime. Marcus eyed the single bed uneasily, then shrugged and settled in, on his usual side.

Shortly thereafter, the covers rustled and Esca lay down next to him, sliding one hand lasciviously down Marcus' spine.

"Give me a hint here." Esca sounded a little embarrassed.

Marcus rolled over to face him. "What?"

"You know," Esca said. "How does this usually go? Am I usually on the bottom, or what?"

"What?"

"It's because I'm small and fragile and you're so big," Esca said, brightly, like a philosopher expounding on the state of the heavens. "That's it, right? You like to gather me up and protect me and then fuck me hard with your massive Roman cock while I gently whisper endearments to you in either Welsh or Gaelic." He looked a little wistful. "That sounds fun, actually, can we do that?"

"Esca--" Marcus said, and he could feel his face growing hot. This wasn't Esca. He wasn't himself.

"Oh, hey, you're blushing!" Esca sounded positively delighted. "Do you blush a lot? That's kind of ridiculous, you're not even that pale, and you've probably been in the army and nothing ought to shock you."

"Esca--"

Esca frowned a little in thought. "Or am I usually topping? Maybe you had some massive angst about how much you like to bottom that comes out of your determination to adhere to some conception of Roman mores. That probably took you forever to get over. I probably made it aaaaaall better. With my cock." He rubbed his erection illustratively against Marcus' thigh. "I can get behind that. If you see what I'm saying."

"Esca--"

"How about blowjobs?" Esca was beginning to sound a little desperate. "I give really good head. Come on, we can just-- wait, no, that's probably on the 'no' list, huh? I have no idea why. You're all so weird. I don't even know why I think Romans are hot. Maybe it's the armor. But please?"

"No," Marcus said, firmly. "We are not doing any of that."

Esca pouted.

"You'll thank me in the morning. Or-- or whenever."

"Your loss," Esca said. He rolled over and started to jerk off.

Marcus sighed.

* * *

He woke up when Esca groaned in his ear.

"My _head_ ," Esca said, eyes scrunched together in misery. "Marcus, what did I drink? What did I do?"

It was Esca. Esca was back. Marcus smiled.

"How much do you remember of yesterday?" Marcus asked, cautiously.

Esca sat up, cradling his head. "I-- I was going to the market, and... that's it. Did something happen?"

Marcus couldn't decide whether to laugh. "You were very... strange."

They both got out of bed. Esca wandered over to the table, flipped the napkin open, and peered curiously at the remains of the pizza.

"What is that?"

Marcus shrugged. "I don't know. You made it. I bet it's still good leftover."

He stuffed a slice of pizza into his mouth. It was.

Outside, something made a strange humming noise.

"What was that?" Esca asked.

"Oh," Marcus said, airily, trying to give off the impression that he knew what he was talking about, "that's the llama. Careful, it spits."

"What's a llama?" Esca said, frowning.

Marcus put an arm around Esca's shoulder. "No idea, but it's ours now."

He was so happy Esca was back. But he was kind of curious about what Esca had been planning to cook with the potatoes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Have the Romans Never Done For Us? - Art! Art!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235159) by [In The Boop Boop Room (norabombay)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norabombay/pseuds/In%20The%20Boop%20Boop%20Room)




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